Ignorance is bliss
by Glorfindel's ghost
Summary: oh god, i gave in to temptation and wrote a lotr mpreg. I updated! no please, go read the story, don't drop dead with shock...
1. Default Chapter

Oh god…I only started this because I was bored…still, thought I might as well post it…

Disclaimer: all the characters belong to the great man Tolkien who would probably be spitting with rage if he read this. Still, I don't think there's much chance of that happening…

"Bleurghhh!…"

"Aw poor Frodo-its probably Sam's cooking", Merry suggested unhelpfully, rubbing Frodo's back as he vomited on the ground again. Legolas crossed his arms across his chest and squinted doubtfully at the stricken hobbit.

"I dunno, I mean the rest of us are fine but you've been like this for days"

Gimli chuckled to himself "…and only in the morning too-if you were female I'd start to think you were up the duff!"

Frodo groaned. "This isn't funny", he spat at the dwarf, "I'm dying here!"

Gimli's words had started a few cogs turning in Legolas' head.

"Y'know…", he began slowly, "what you said isn't such a ridiculous idea…"

The others looked at him strangely, wondering if the elf had been at the hobbits' pipeweed.

"No honestly!", he continued earnestly, "There's a rogue gene-it happens in elves sometimes. You haven't got any elf in you have you Frodo?"

Frodo had forgotten how ill he was feeling now. The big blue eyes had widened at Legolas' words and the lower lip had started to quiver.

"Legolas!", snapped Aragorn, "don't scare him!"

"Its true" protested the elf.

"There are rumours back in the shire, y'know ,about the Bagginses and some elf maiden way back" Pippin said brightly. Sam brandished a frying pan at him and he shut up abruptly.

"…or a Numenorean?" , Legolas continued.

"Does he lok like a Numenorean?", Aragorn asked sarcastically, and then, realising that this affected him, "what about numenoreans?"

Legolas grinned. 

"You don't know your own physiology Aragorn? Well, apparently your lot were such a bunch of sexual deviants that there were hardly any more Numenoreans being born. The Ainur realised that something needed to be done so they gave all male partners of numenoreans the power to conceive". Aragorn looked sceptical, the others merely curious.

"so why did the Numenoreans die out then?", asked Merry.

"Ah well, the Numenoreans were perfectly happy to to do that kind of thing whilst they couldn't be found out but once there were far reaching consequences they just stopped-far too embarrassed you see. Of course, this didn't mean they started fancying women instead so they just died out", he grinned at Aragorn, "apart from a select few of course".

Legolas told a convincing story. Everyone scrutinised Frodo and tried to work out what this meant. Surprisingly, Sam put two and two together first.

"Frodo!", he exclaimed in horror, looking between the hobbit and the ranger in amazement.

Aragorn himself looked rather ashen. Legolas suspected that it was the prospect of what Arwen would do to him when she found out. She could be extremely vengeful when she felt it warranted.

Right now there were more important things to be worrying about. Frodo apppeared to have taken the news rather badly. He had his head buried in Merry's shoulder and was wailing inanely about what people would say when he got back to the shire. Pippin had decided that it would be a good idea to confiscate Sam's frying pan and was attempting to do so with Gimli and Boromir's help. An enraged Sam was proving somewhat difficult to disarm even with Gimli's pleas that killing the king of men was something he'd regret.

And Aragorn appeared to have gone into some kind of trance. Legolas wished that Gandalf hadn't been so inconsiderate as to get himself killed- his calming influence would be a great help right now.

And it was then that Frodo voiced the question that Legolas had been dreading. 

"Legolas", he began in a small voice, "how am I supposed to give birth to it?"

"Well", Legolas said clearing his throat, "first we knock you out with some strong herbs…and then we cut you open".

It was at this point that Frodo fainted.

Well, do you like? If so please review!(if I don't get any I won't be continuing with this)


	2. Aragornnot very kingly at all

Thought up on the way to the Lancaster university open day…enjoy…

Disclaimer: All these characters belong to Tolkien, I've just borrowed them for my own perverted enjoyment

Ignorance is bliss-part 2:

The initial chaos had given way to a bemused silence. Following Frodo's faint Legolas had swatted the other hobbits away and deposited Frodo on a soft mossy patch, figuring that it would guarantee some peace and quiet.

However, everyone else had taken the opportunity to get their pipe out so he had found himself coughing through a haze of smoke.

"Y'know, that's not very good for the baby", he protested. The others scowled at him and, muttering darkly, put out their pipes. Legolas couldn't be sure but he thought Aragorn might have made a rather obscene gesture at him as he'd done so.

Frodo suddenly sat up with a little shriek, making everyone else jump. They stared at him nervously. Boromir turned out to be bravest.

"How are you feeling?", he asked tentatively.

"How am I feeling?", Frodo squeaked, followed by a laugh that made the others scoot backwards and try to locate their weapons, "oh I'm great really-I mean never mind that I'm a complete freak of nature and that as well as saving Middle earth I now have to give birth-oh no sorry I can't give birth can I? So (and here his voice rose several octaves) I have to let one of you savages cut me open and then-bearing in mind that I'm still alive of course-I have to carry on into Mordor with a baby that I haven't even got the equipment to feed! So as you can see I'm just _terrific!_"

This tirade didn't particularly encourage a reply, especially if you had some sense of self preservation. Pippin, however, had already demonstrated a number of times that far from wanting to live, he seemed to positively relish his own destruction. Thus was the case now.

"Ah look one the bright side Frodo- you could be queen of Gondor!"

The tips of Frodo's ears turned bright red with rage. Everyone cringed and resisted the temptation to cover their eyes with their hands. Surprisingly, no violent repercussions were forthcoming. Instead, Frodo got up, turned around and ran into the woods.

"Terrific", Boromir said sarcastically, as he and Legolas exchanged an exasperated glance. Legolas rubbed at him temple-he didn't think that elves could get stress headaches? Oh well…

"Sam go and fetch him", he instructed. Sam glared at him.

"Why don't you send Aragorn?", he asked bitterly. Sam, it could be safely assumed, was not overjoyed at the prospect of the patter of tiny feet.

"I'm not sending Aragorn because whilst he may be extremely good at living in the wild like a tramp he's absolutely rubbish at relating to people and is likely to provoke Frodo into hurting him severely. And (here followed a disapproving glance at the Ranger) whilst he certainly deserves to be hurt we do actually need him in good working order."

This was good enough for Sam. Casting Aragorn a look of murderous rage he set off into the woods to look for Frodo.

Legolas and Boromir decided to take advantage of the fact that Gimli and Merry were busy having a quiet word with Pippin about saying such provoking things to a rather emotional Frodo. They each grabbed one of Aragorn's ears and dragged him to a safe distance away. Aragorn sensed an impending telling-off and whimpered.

"I can't believe that you bedded the ringbearer!". Boromir looked impressed and Aragorn thought, a little wistful.

Legolas elbowed the Gondorian in the ribs and glared at him.

"Behave youself!", he reprimanded, "and as for _you_…" he turned the glare onto Aragorn who was looking suitably sheepish.

"I didn't know!", the Ranger protested.

"Well you still shouldn't have jumped into bed with him! I thought you were being pursued by nine ringwraiths, how on earth did you find time to knock up the ringbearer?!"

"I'm sorry Sir-", Aragorn stopped, looking confused. Legolas could scold as only a 3000 year old elf could.

"um,yes…", Legolas said slowly. Had Aragorn really just called him 'Sir'? Christ, he wanted to go home…

"What are we going to do?" Boromir brought them back to the matter at hand.

"Galadriel will know what to do", Legolas predicted confidently, "once we get to Lothlorien everything will be fine"

"Galadriel?", Aragorn cuffed Legolas slightly harder round the head than he'd meant to "no, she'll tell Elrond, then Elrond will tell Arwen and then Arwen will MAIM ME!!!"

This last bit was delivered at such a decibel that it sent birds flocking from the trees. Legolas frowned and smoothed down his hair.

"well that's hardly our problem"

For once it was Boromir to make the sensible suggestion.

"We don't have to tell her who the father is do we? I mean, I know that she can read minds but as long as we keep Frodo away from her and try not to think about it in her presence then we should be alright yes?"

Legolas groaned,

"We'll just have to chance it, there's nothing else we can do"

"And anyway", Aragorn mused, "I'm the future king of men so it would be a bad idea for them to hurt me right?"

Boromir and Legolas exchanged a worried glance.

"Um yeah, that's the spirit-positive thinking! Now, can anyone tell me how long a hobbit pregnancy lasts?"

Aragorn and Boromir shrugged in reply.

"Is it important?"

"Important?!", Legolas spluttered in a most un-elven way, "of course its bloody important-I don't fancy having to deliver this baby at the foot of Mount Doom using just my hunting knives!"

"Yes", replied Aragorn mildly, "that could be somewhat problematic"

From within the little huddle of Gimli, Merry an Pippin there came a sudden yell from Pippin.

"That's how you get pregnant? Does that mean that I'm pregnant as well?"

"Errr…I'm going for a slash", Aragorn said quickly before he scarpered off into the woods.

….Dedicated to Aragorn, legendary pervy hobbit fancier!

Next chapter: what Sam said when he caught up with Frodo in the woods


	3. when actions speak louder than words

Why is it I always have the best ideas just when I'm snowed under with work? Have appallingly bad headache but am taking advantage of empty house to do some writing(you see the sacrifices I make for you guys?!)  
  
Right, part 3 which to me seems resolutely unfunny no matter what I do to it, I blame ff.net(removal of nc-17...mutters darkly...)  
  
Ignorance is bliss-part 3('when actions speak louder than words')  
  
Frodo, considering his condition, could move quite fast. When Sam eventually stumbled into the clearing he found Frodo perched on a rock, looking understandably glum.  
  
Sam smiled ruefully at him and approached him somewhat cautiously.  
  
"It's alright, I'm not going to harm you", Frodo told him with a sigh.  
  
"I don't really know what to say", Sam confessed awkwardly.  
  
"Damn Aragorn..."  
  
Sam smiled. He'd been mistaken-he definitely had something to say about that.  
  
"If it's any consolation", he told Frodo, "when I left Legolas was looking more angry than any elf I've ever seen"  
  
"More angry than Glorfindel when Merry got drunk, mistook for a woman and slapped him on the arse?"  
  
"Definitely-I think Aragorn is a hell of a telling off"  
  
Frodo visibly brightened-after all, there was always the slim chance that Legolas might snap and stab Aragorn in the eye with an arrow. Or was that a bit harsh? He thought about the predicament he was in. Never mind the eye, he wanted Legolas to stab Aragorn in the crotch with an arrow...  
  
He realised that Sam had sat down at his side and was waiting patiently, looking a little bemused by the way Frodo was sitting eyes narrowed, staring into space. Frodo made a concerted effort to act normal.  
  
"What am I going to do Sam?"  
  
Samwise Gamgee knew about gardening, ale and elf folklore. Pregnancy in male hobbits wasn't really among his rather limited repertoire. He had absolutely no idea what Frodo should do but, despite Sam being an honest and good-natured hobbit he wasn't going to admit that. Oh no, the thought of Mr Frodo turning to him for advice and hanging on his every word...perhaps even feeling indebted to him...Sam felt the need to loosen his collar at the prospect of it and realised he'd been bouncing up and down in a rather inappropriate fashion. Luckily, Frodo didn't seem to have noticed.  
  
In the absence of any answer from Sam, Frodo had started muttering to himself in a manner that Sam found rather disturbing. Particularly since he managed to clearly discern the words 'stubble, 'Anduril' and 'arse'. However, Sam wasn't too disturbed to forget about taking the moral high ground.  
  
"So", he began, attempting to keep his voice casual but disapproving, "you and Aragorn...?"  
  
"Mmm...", Frodo grimaced, "I don't know what me and Pippin were thinking real-"  
  
"YOU AND PIPPIN?!?"   
  
Sam was aghast, partly because he'd realised this meant Pippin could also be pregnant, but mostly because if Frodo was going to ask anyone to have a sordid threesome with him it should really be Sam. Not that he was jealous or anything. Definitely not. Nope, he was just concerned that Frodo's honour had been called into question. Yes, that was it. Sam paused, baffled by the slightly insane leaps of his own logic. And to think that he'd always been the sensible, rational one. It didn't bode well.  
  
"So, let me get this straight. You, and Aragorn and Pippin had a..." Too embarassed to say the word, Sam made a complicated and confusing(as well as rather obscene) hand gesture to illustrate his point. Luckily, Frodo got the gist of it.  
  
"Yes, that's right. No, don't look at me like that Sam- he's quite appealing in the dark and he's very good if you get my drift" Frodo winked at him.  
  
"and Pippin?"  
  
Frodo looked puzzled.  
  
"I was talking about Pippin". Then he noticed the look on Sam's face and decided to change the subject.  
  
"You have to help me Sam"  
  
Make no mistake about it, Sam was royally pissed off. However, at the sight of Frodo's big blue eyes filling up with tears he relented. Damn manipulative Frodo, Sam couldn't resist him. He leaned in and wrapped his arms around Frodo, making soothing noises.  
  
Frodo was feeling rather pleased with himself. If this was going to be the reaction every time he pulled one of his pregnancy mood swings have to do it more often.  
  
"Now", Sam said, "lets think about this. When are you due?"  
  
"Errm...", Frodo wiped his nose on his sleeve and thought about it, "july?"  
  
Sam positively beamed.  
  
"But that's plenty of time! You'll see Mr Frodo, we'll get rid of the ring and then we'll get you to Lord Elrond before you're due and he'll help you deliver it and then you'll be back in the shire before you know it"  
  
Despite Sam's quite over exaggerated show of completely unfounded optimism, Frodo was steadfastly refusing to be cheered up.  
  
"But what if I die delivering it? What if the ring isn't destroyed by the time I'm due? What will the people back home say when I get home with a baby?"  
  
The smile on Sam's face became a little forced.  
  
Frodo hiccuped miserably. He'd only actually been saying these things as a way of getting more hands-on comfort out of Sam. But now he'd realised that all his questions were in fact entirely pertinent and that he'd just succeeded in depressing himself again.  
  
Sam, upset his little pep talk hadn't worked, was sitting anxiously chewing on his lower lip.  
  
It was into this cheery scene that Aragorn now stumbled, out of breath and nursing a stubbed toe. It was clear from the look on his face that he had now realised that whatever he'd just run away from was a whole lot better than the possibilities this offered.  
  
The future king of men didn't have long to wait before an irate Frodo jumped to his feet and hurled himself at him with evil intent. Aragorn's last coherent thought before the angry furry bundle reached him was that it was in this sort of situation that you you were struck by the sheer inconvenience of hobbits being crotch height.  
  
  
  
  
Well, there we go. Chapter 4 will be the fellowship reaching Lothlorien. 


	4. Aftermath

Well, first off I owe an apology to all those who read the first three chapters and waited...and then waited some more for an update that never came. After ff.net deleted all the NC-17 fic I completely forgot that I had another story in progress that was still up until someone recently reviewed and I thought huh? And then remembered the story. So this is for anyone who is still wistfully checking for updates...  
  
"It's amazing! I mean, who would have thought that two little hobbits could do that much damage to a full grown man?"  
  
"Oh, I don't know- they had a lot of rage. Hold your head back Aragorn, if you get blood on my suede boots I'm going to get very angry and finish you off"  
  
"Nnurghhh..."  
  
"Aw, does your head still hurt? You poor dear". The sarcasm with which this last sentence of Legolas's dripped did not go unnoticed by Aragorn, despite his rather addled state of mind at present.  
  
It had all been a bit of a blur really. But there had been fists. And feet. And teeth. Of these things he was sure. He also remembered hearing some very girlish screams.  
  
Which, yes, could conceivably have come from him. Maybe...  
  
...well, it was extremely traumatic.  
  
He had come to with Boromir and Legolas dragging him along by his arms and discussing him in a rather derogatory manner.  
  
"God, he smells terrible, what they must have done to him..."  
  
"Boromir, he smelt like this before- worse in fact! I can't think how Elrond put up with it for all those years."  
  
"Well, as long as you're sure that he didn't soil himself due to fear".  
  
It was at this point an indignant Aragorn had decided to speak up but had succeeded in making only a rather incoherent groaning noise that reminded him quite distinctly of the sort of noise he used to make early into the whole wandering-about-as-a-ranger thing after some of his more unsuccessful berry tasting sessions.  
  
"Oh, so you're awake are you?", Legolas had asked, "you idiotic, useless sod" left unsaid but very much implied.  
  
It suddenly occurred to Aragorn that all elves were, in fact, completely heartless bastards. Well, the ones he had the bad luck to know were...  
  
At this point his musings on the inherent evilness of elves were rudely interrupted by Legolas and Boromir, who attempted to go different ways around a tree and managed to drag him headfirst into it. The world went blissfully dark again.  
  
Legolas was grumpy. Very grumpy. And possibly on the verge of a nervous breakdown.  
  
The unearthly, high pitched screaming that had emanated from the forest hadn't particularly helped his nerves- although the realisation that the screams had come form Aragorn had lightened his mood considerably.  
  
He had, using his elf powers of intelligence and persuasion, managed to get Pippin to tell him the whole sordid story. Well, Legolas had poked Pippin repeatedly with the end of an arrow whilst Boromir had twisted his ear. Ahem. End justifying the means and all that...  
  
Pippin had been rather compliant even before they'd started trying to get information out of him. Very compliant and very graphic. Legolas didn't think that he'd be able to look Aragorn or Frodo in the eye ever again.  
  
Hearing about Aragorn's sexual proclivities from Pippin- with his rather disturbing habit of using expansive hand gestures to illustrate what he was trying to describe- had sent Legolas dangerously close to the end of his tether.  
  
Fuming- and ignoring the other's pleas that they and rescue Aragorn- Legolas had counted to 200 in his head. Then he had counted another 100 to give Frodo and Sam time to inflict maximum damage.  
  
They'd actually bumped into Sam when they'd finally started trying to track Aragorn and the hobbits down. He's been on the way back to camp to fetch his frying pan, which Legolas thought boded well for Aragorn's continued existence. They'd left the irate hobbit in the custody of Gimli, Merry and Pippin whilst he and Boromir went on ahead.  
  
They'd found Frodo kicking a prone Aragorn in the head, his mood hovering somewhere between 'wreaking bloody vengeance' and 'battle frenzy'. He'd attempted to calm Frodo down with a burst of Elvish song but that had just made Frodo give him a rather unambiguous look. Unambiguous in that it clearly said "keep singing and I'll rip your pointy ears off and stick them where the sun doesn't shine". So Legolas had stopped singing and simply yelled at Frodo in the most commanding tone he could muster. Which turned out to be surprisingly commanding- he'd even made himself wilt with fear. Although that could just have been his own body odour- if Legolas didn't have a bath soon he was going to go on strike.  
  
When he'd finished being commanding and a sullen Frodo had been suitably reprimanded Legolas had spent ten minutes slapping Aragorn none-too-gently across the face under the supposed guise of trying to wake him up. Well, it was hardly his fault the stupid bastard remained completely unconscious so he to keep hitting him harder was it? Frodo certainly didn't seem to mind this new bout of violence and Boromir- whom Legolas was strongly beginning to suspect of being the product of incest- didn't seem to notice.  
  
So now they were back at the camp, the four hobbits gathered to one side, giving Aragorn baleful looks that promised pain, whilst Boromir and Gimli did what all proper men would do in a similar awkward situation- they sat, silently, smoking their pipes and steadfastly ignoring everybody else. They did this highly effectively, Legolas noted. Well, either that or they were both lying about the contents of their pipes and they were now both too stoned to remember that the group was having a crisis. Either possibility seemed more attractive than playing nursemaid to Aragorn-who certainly didn't deserve any sympathy or nursing anyway, having brought this all on himself. After all, Legolas pondered, 'No kinky threesomes' and 'Don't knock up any travelling companions' were quite possibly golden rules in the handbook for apocalypse-preventing quests. Although he seriously doubted that there was handbook for this sort of thing...he certainly hadn't seen one...unless...Gandalf had been secretly carrying it and it had fallen to his death with him. Stupid old git, Legolas thought rather uncharitably, before realising that his recent thoughts could possibly be said to be the workings of an increasingly...unbalanced mind.  
  
It certainly didn't help that Aragorn was leaning against him and bleeding all over his leggings, although it was the leaning rather than the bleeding that was perturbing him the most. He'd had to be the mature one- everybody else being too scared of Frodo to volunteer- to clean Aragorn up, bandage his wounds and foil any potential homicide attempts by the hobbits. Merry had tried earlier and had actually growled at him-growled!- when Legolas had prevented Aragorn's imminent demise.  
  
So Aragorn had been grateful- profusely so- and had then proceeded to cling to Legolas like a limpet. It was most disconcerting, particularly since in the last half hour Aragorn had started to repetitively stroke his knee. Legolas wasn't entirely sure whether this was merely some early sign of post traumatic stress or something far more sinister- namely the thought that Aragorn was trying to hit on him and that since this was Aragorn, no amount of bad body odour was going to put him off...in fact it could be that it was a bit of a turn-on for him.  
  
Aragorn wasn't entirely sure where he was, the mist of concussion still being prevalent, but he was pressed up against something warm and soft that smelled a bit funny-not rotting corpse funny or anything, just maybe a bit...off. He kept stroking it to try and figure out what it was, and, since it didn't show any signs of being about to attack him, he was going to keep right on stroking it since it was rather soothing considering the kind of day he'd had.  
  
His head hurt, his right arm hurt, both his feet felt like an oliphaunt had walked over them. He was the king of men dammit, he was supposed to be revered and praised, not beaten to a bloody pulp over a few...indiscretions. As soon as he could walk again there were going to be some changes around here. Although that would involve him talking to the hobbits. Which terrified him immensely.   
  
He sighed. God, his life sucked beyond the telling... 


	5. Galadriel's wrath

If Aragorn was being honest with himself he'd admit that he in a lot of pain. He's briefly toyed with the idea of fashioning a crutch cut from the branch of a tree but- remembering that you should never carry anything that could be used against you as a weapon- had decided against it. Mainly, this was because- whilst he was resigned to the fact that in all likelihood, one of the hobbits would murder him in his sleep- the ignominy of being beaten to death with his own crutch would be just too much.  
  
By the time he realised that actually, he really did need a crutch, it was too late because they'd already entered the woods of Lothlorien and, whilst Aragorn may not have been the sharpest tool in the box, he was smart enough to realise that chopping off bits of Galadriel's trees wouldn't really endear him to her. After all, he was in enough trouble already...  
  
It was too much, it really was, Frodo decided. As if being burdened with an apocalypse related (and therefore highly important) quest wasn't enough, now he'd been knocked up by that smelly, hairy, snivelling git.  
  
That was certainly the last time Frodo Baggins was going to lured into bed by royalty. It had been Pippin's idea anyway. Well, that was Frodo's story and he was sticking to it.  
  
But now Sam was being irritatingly loyal and, simultaneously, silently judging ( Strumpet! His look seemed to shout). Frdo wasn't sure if it was all the hormones making him paranoid, whether Sam was actually hitherto unknown to him extremely devout in his morals, or whether- most horrifying of all- Sam had been harbouring a secret crush on him and was actually just insanely jealous. To say that this last possibility vexed Frodo was to put it mildly.  
  
Someone who definitely was jealous- loudly and annoyingly so- was Merry, who spent all his time alternating between moaning about not being invited to their threesome and slurring the name of Baggins to anyone that would listen.  
  
Nobody had paid much attention until he'd let slip that Frodo and Pippin were cousins. And that's when all the funny looks had started from all the others.  
  
It was most unfair and hypocritical of them Frodo thought. After all, Aragorn. Boromir and Legolas were all of noble birth and everyone knew that nobles got up to that sort of thing all the time. And Gimli was so ugly that there had to have been some inbreeding at some point. Well, either that or dwarves were even more spectacularly ugly than Bilbo had said.  
  
And the others kept making him walk! He remained convinced that there was probably a footpath which led directly to Mordor and that they were just taking the long way round to be malicious to him. Especially Legolas, who'd been shooting him the kind of death glares that only an elf could muster.  
  
Of course, it could just be that the various grumbles and gurgles emanating from Frodo's stomach- loud enough even to wake Boromir who slept like the dead- were proving rather irritating to Legolas and heightened, bat-like elf ears.  
  
Or, maybe it was because two days previously, Frodo had woken up with his normal bout of morning sickness, gotten his trouser leg caught in a branch and had ended up vomiting over Legolas's coat. And his hair.  
  
The ensuing scenes had been somewhat nasty to say the least.  
  
Frodo was of the opinion that it was downright rude of Legolas to bear a grudge considering his condition and was seriously pondering the possibility of having Sam take Legolas out.  
  
His plotting of Legolas's death was rudely interrupted by the arrival of three blond elves, who seemed to just materialise out of the trees and nearly gave him a heart attack. The campest of the three introduced himself as Haldir and proceeded to say vaguely threatening things before blindfolding them and leading them to Lothlorien. None of the above did much to improve Frodo's current opinion of elves.  
  
Legolas was having a bad day. Again. His hair smelt of vomit, the strange noises coming from Frodo's stomach had prevented him sleeping for a total of 104 hours and counting, and, until that annoying twat Haldir had appeared- and slapped him on the bottom dammit!- he'd been convinced that they were going in entirely the wrong direction.  
  
Aragorn had disagreed, using the 'I'm a ranger with a sense of direction better than a compass' card, but to be honest, Aragorn looked like he might keel over and die any second so Legolas didn't really have much faith in his judgement.  
  
Currently though, he was walking through the forest blindfolded, one of his hands being quite mercilessly crushed by Boromir and dragging Aragorn along by the other one. Everyone stopped rather abruptly and he walked slap-bang into Boromir. Boromir was far more sturdily built than Legolas had expected. Fresh pain blossomed in his nose and his ribs.  
  
When the blindfold came off at Haldir's order, Legolas shot Boromir a filthy look and then set off after the others- vaguely aware of Aragorn cowering behind him- to see Galadriel.   
  
Galadriel was beautiful. Galadriel was regal. Galadriel was powerful.  
  
Galadriel was...a bitch.  
  
Well, according to Arwen anyway.  
  
Standing here waiting for her to make her her big entrance- because, like all elves, Galadriel was a drama queen and only ever made big entrances- Aragorn realised that an excuse was called to explain his...naughtiness.  
  
Unfortunately, the paralysing fear which had turned his legs to jelly had also numbed his mind. Plus, now he really needed to pee. He was never going to live it down if Galadriel yelled at him and he wet himself through pure terror.  
  
The need for an excuse was forgotten however, as Galadriel started to make her descent down the stairs on the arm of Celeborn. She managed to get all the way down to the third bottom step before she tripped over the hem of her floor length gown, and ended up stumbling to a halt with a painful looking twist of her ankle and an Elvish curse that made Frodo blush.  
  
Legolas- who seemed to be getting more embittered by the day- snickered as Galadriel crossly batted away Celeborn's concern and tried to compose herself.  
  
"Eight there are here, but nine there were set out from Rivendell. Where is Ganadalf, for I have much desire to speak with him?" Celeborn covered for the still slightly rattled looking Galadriel.  
  
Everyone looked rather sheepish.  
  
"Gandalf is rather...um...dead" Legolas hoped that he looked suitably contrite- no point in them knowing that, as far as he was concerned, Gandalf was the lucky one right now.  
  
"Dead?" Galadriel looked at him querulously and obviously believed what she saw there.  
  
"He has fallen in the shadow".  
  
Legolas nodded blankly and tried to avoid thinking about his father, whose opinion was somewhat less than complimentary. Faced with Galadriel and her creepy mind-reading powers, Legolas's mind inevitably wandered to the things that he would rather Galadriel didn't know. After all, it would never do for her to find out that Thranduil thought she was moody, crazy old hag...oops.  
  
Luckily for Legolas, Galadriel's attention was diverted elsewhere.  
  
Following the revelation of Gandalf's death- which to be honest was hardly something she was going to lose sleep over- she'd launched into her carefully prepared motivational speech.  
  
"The quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and..."  
  
She never finished the sentence. Having glanced at Frodo as she spoke and then done a double-take at the revelation evident to her in his face.  
  
Galadriel blanched. The fellowship cringed as one. Celeborn looked puzzled.  
  
"The Ringbearer bears an extra burden on his quest"  
  
In times of crisis Galadriel's speech tended to become even more cryptic than usual. Sometimes she even referred to herself in the third person.  
  
Celeborn had learned to deal with this and accept it as a quirk. After all, in exchange he got the dominant, controlling woman that he craved. Celeborn, like the majority of elves, had all number of complexes arising from the boredom of immortality.  
  
Galadriel, he noticed, was looking more than a little stunned. Then she turned to look at Aragorn and the stunned expression turned to one of pure, unadulterated rage.  
  
"An ally of the Ringbearer has done him wrong- that ally has also betrayed the heart and trust of his fair companion. Vengeance must be swi-"  
  
For the second time in five minutes Galadriel failed to finish her sentence. This time, it was because Celeborn- seeing the murderous rage and hearing the worrying tremble in her voice- had taken the opportunity to slap Galadriel into unconsciouness.  
  
Everyone stared at the fallen queen in astonishment and then turned to look at Celeborn. He shrugged.  
  
"You wouldn't like her when she's angry- trust me."  
  
It was Celeborn's turn to look astonished as a weeping Aragorn suddenly enveloped him In a bear-hug.  
  
Frodo glared at him.  
  
The others all looked varying degrees of sheepish and remained silent.  
  
Finally, Legolas cleared his throat uncomfortably.  
  
"Perhaps there's a few things you need to know. How long have we got until she wakes up?"  
  
Celeborn was intrigued.  
  
"Minions...I mean guards", he commanded, "take lady Galadriel to her chamber and lock her in. If you suspect she's using her magic to kill or maim someone come and inform me".  
  
The guards glared at him but did as ordered.  
  
"Well", Legolas started awkwardly, "It's like this..." 


End file.
